


Dog Days

by daughterofalderaan



Category: Mum (TV 2016)
Genre: Cathy's a bit sad someone give her a hug, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daughterofalderaan/pseuds/daughterofalderaan
Summary: No, she wasn’t making the most of her summer holiday.
Relationships: Cathy Walker/Michael Roberts
Kudos: 13





	Dog Days

**Author's Note:**

> Hope I hit a decent balance between the staccato of Cath's in-the-moment and the flow of her thoughts

It was hot. 

Record-breakingly hot.

The infiltrate-your-brain-and-make-any-sort-of-movement-feel-like-life’s-great-burden brand of hot. 

Sweat coated every inch of Cathy’s skin. The discomfort was novel, as it was usually the wintertime that did her in. Dave used to tease her about all the layers she would burrow herself into. Winter sounded more like a made-up concept now. The principle of _heat rising_ , however, was quite tangible. She trained herself to stay downstairs as much as possible.

The day prior, she intended to dip her feet in the paddling pool. However, she’d found that the shed door had been left open. Some foxes had made their way in there and wrecked the thing. Figures.

This was her first time living alone. She'd thought it would be relaxing, having the house all to herself. It teetered more towards banal.

When Pamela from work had heard that Jason and Kelly were going to move out, she’d tried convincing Cathy to get a dog. Pam had three cocker spaniels and had claimed she didn’t need anybody else because she had her _furry babies_. Cathy privately thought that Pam was still deep in denial after her husband had left her the same week her daughter had gone off to uni.

Still, Cathy had genuinely toyed around with the idea of paying the shelter in Enfield a visit. Never went through with it, though. She was glad that she hadn’t. Didn’t want to be bothered with having to go out and walk a pet. 

There was nobody around to keep her from being utterly inactive. From sitting on the sofa, lethargic, not changing the channel because the remote was too far to reach without getting up. She stared at the telly as an entire episode of Bargain Hunt went by. Felt a bit ancient.

Menial tasks that shouldn’t require any thought seemed to take an extra dose of willpower to complete. Washing up, hanging clothes, vacuuming. Monotonous.

Cathy didn’t suspect that she would start to cram any last-minute excitement into her vacation. 

It wouldn’t have been like this, with Dave. He’d always had loads of ideas bubbling around in that head of his. Had been prone to initiating spontaneous outings.

She had done _some_ stuff. Just not a lot. 

Pauline and Derek had invited her to see a show at the National with them. If she was honest, it hadn’t been all that enjoyable of a time. For starters, Pauline had laughed when Cathy had assumed they’d be heading in via the overground, rather than by car. Un-shockingly, the A12 had been backed up and they arrived late. They had to wait for an appropriate moment to be let inside. Pauline had fumed. 

It hadn’t been much better once seated. The material had just been so _boring_. After a while, her brain had decided that paying attention wasn’t worth the effort, and she drifted into and out of consciousness for the remainder of the performance. Pauline and Derek had raved about the piece post-show while she stayed silent.

When she’d gotten home, she took her phone out of her purse, and immediately set it back down again. Had intended to text Michael about the less-than-stellar night out before she remembered his radio silence. 

She kept catching herself making mental notes about things she wanted bring up with him. As if they were regularly speaking. 

_Oh, have you seen what they’ve raised the price of oranges to at Tesco’s?_  
_Oh, did you hear about how Derek played at two golf courses in one day?_  
_Oh, Maureen was complaining about those neighbours again._

She kept these thoughts to herself.

The doorbell rang. Cathy jumped. 

She signed for a parcel that did _not_ have her name on it. Kelly kept accidentally putting down the house as the recipient address instead of the new flat.

The previous arrival had gotten a little messy. Literally. From what Cathy had gathered, there’d been an accident during Kelly’s childhood that involved nail polish and a chainsaw. Kelly had refused to disclose any more details; just that she hadn’t wanted to paint her own nails since. 

This was, until two weeks ago, when Kelly’s cousin Debs had her monthly psychic appointment. The psychic had told Debs that someone in her family with the letter “E” in their name would have dark forces infiltrate their aura if they didn’t give enough attention to someone called “Sally.” The cousins apparently had spent ages mulling over this. In the end, they’d decided that:

a) Kelly must be the family member,  
b) the “Sally” in question was Sally Hansen, and  
c) Kelly had to order their products immediately or she’d be cursed.

Cathy had thought Kelly had just been coming round to collect the parcel. Instead, she’d immediately gotten started on the task of painting her fingernails. She botched them up. And redid them. Twice. Then her toes. 

Kelly had chattered away while her feet were propped up her feet up on the coffee table, drying. She'd only paused to inquire if Cathy had seen Michael lately, and also to offer to paint her nails. Cathy had told her that he’d been busy lately, and declined the offer. 

She’d thrown out her bed sheet when Kelly left. Couldn’t have been bothered to figure out how to remove red nail polish from it. 

Cathy missed him. Michael. 

Hadn’t heard from him since the funeral. 

Didn’t blame him. 

It was her fault, after all. 

In her head, she kept replaying the conversation they’d last at her house. Had another go at it. Erased what she'd said. 

Cathy _knew_ what it was like to be vulnerable when grief’s opening chords struck. He had needed someone to be there for him. Yet, that had been the moment she’d picked to run her mouth off. She’d regretted the words as they were coming out. It had been the worst possible time to be having that conversation. 

Her thoughts were still muddled about it all, despite all the time she had to think about it. She wasn't clear what she wanted, what she didn't want. It was frightening, not being able to make sense of her own emotions. Things in her life had consistently felt off-kilter since the previous January.

Young Cathy wouldn’t have been able to fathom her present situation. There’d been no way for her to have imagined up a life that Dave wasn’t a part of. Losing her spouse and developing _feelings_ for one of his best mates was never part of the game plan.

If it were anyone else, she’d block out the noise entirely. Wouldn’t be able to even conceive of intimacy with a brand new person. But this wasn’t just anybody off the high street. This was Michael, the shy, sweet friend of Dave’s that she’d first met all those years ago. Michael, who had became _her_ best friend. 

Sunbeams gently swayed on her kitchen wall. 

Her thoughts lingered on their wedding reception. Her mum had managed to upset her about something, god knows what anymore, but then she’d noticed Dave and Michael on the dance floor. Both boozed up, dancing around like a pair of clowns.

She didn’t want to have lost both of them. Hoped that wasn’t selfish of her.

At the end of the day, she took a shower. Used exclusively cold water for the first time in years, possibly. The temperature shocked her senses. 

When drying off, it was only the hum of her portable fan that stopped her from being engulfed in complete silence.

Cathy had never been so ready for the start of fall term.

**Author's Note:**

> Perpetually yelling abt Cathy & Michael, come yell w me over @freetobegrace on tumblah


End file.
